Smoke and Ashes
by BlackthornUnicorn98
Summary: My short little take on what could have been going through Arya Stark's mind during Daenerys Targaryen's fiery takeover of King's Landing. Rating for safety.


**Hey, lovelies! So, this is obviously going to be a little bit different than what I usually write, but if you're not caught up with Game of Thrones, turn back now, because there are some serious spoilers ahead. On a whim, I decided to write my take on the thoughts of Arya Stark during Daenerys Targaryen's Mad Queen Moment in season eight. This was just a quick little fic that I wrote from Arya's perspective, and I hope you like it! As usual, I don't own the characters or the plot...that's all George RR Martin.**

The streets are covered with dirt and ash, several feet deep in some places. I can still see it falling from the sky. Coating the houses, sprinkling over the remains of the buildings that have been reduced to nothing but rubble. Some of the ash looks like snow; I scoff to myself. I have to remember that I am no longer up North. I don't exist within the safety of Winterfell's walls any longer. I'm by myself, struggling to breathe, in the middle of a scorched, crumbling city, listening to the agonizing cries of innocent men, women, and children being burned alive or sliced to bits or run through with swords. Even through the ash and smoke, I can still see our Queen high above the city, flying with her last remaining dragon as he continues to burn what remains of King's Landing.

The screams continue to ring in my ears, until they begin to clash together, blending into a screeching song of pure, undeniable horror. I do my best to ignore it, and continue on through the streets. My eyes burn, but through the smoke, I continue to watch the Queen. I'd been right not to trust her. My sister had been right to be suspicious of her. The moment that Sansa had laid eyes on Daenerys, the first time that she had spoken to her in the courtyard of Winterfell, I immediately knew how she felt. She saw this foreign woman not as a peaceful liberator, as she had claimed herself to be for years, but as a ruthless conqueror, through and through.

I'd heard all of the stories of the Dragon Queen from the East, the last of the Targaryen line. The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt...all that horseshit. I'd heard about the things that she'd done, both wondrous and utterly horrifying. How she crucified slave masters, mercilessly sacked the cities in Slavers' Bay, and burned her enemies alive when they refused to bend the knee. I couldn't help but wonder what sort of liberator who wanted to build a better world would commit such heinous acts.

The smoke begins to burn my eyes and cloud my vision, and I rub at them violently, desperate to regain sight of the street in front of me. I can just barely see the shadows of burned bodies along the road; I can see every single person ahead of me, most of whom are dead or dying, lying in pools of their own blood. I can hear the sounds of the Unsullied, grunting and shouting as they stick their spears into every last supporter of Cersei Lannister that they can find. In the distance, I hear a desperate man's voice, shouting for his men to fall back, and for a moment, I think it's Jon. But I can't be sure, and my heart drops. If something has happened to my brother because of the Queen's actions, there won't be enough Unsullied or Dothraki combined to keep me from plunging my Needle deep into her cold, mad heart.

I begin to think back to the woman and young child that I tried to save. I had wanted to keep them safe; nobody in King's Landing, except perhaps Cersei, deserved a fate as horrific as this. When the woman had collapsed, her daughter had refused to leave her side in the hope that they could both make it back to safety, somehow. I had given up, and the moment I turned away, everything behind me was engulfed in flames, including the woman and her daughter. I could feel my heart crack inside my chest at the thought of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people dying in the worst possible way. And as much as I loathe King's Landing, I have to admit that so many of its residents were innocent. A liberator who wants to make the world a better place does not murder innocents by the thousands.

Before long, the screams begin to fade. The dragon is no longer breathing fire through the city, and all I can hear is the sound of the Red Keep collapsing in the distance. I bring my hands up to my face, and discover blood. Streaks of blood and dirt, caking my cheeks. My hair is singed as well; one too many brushes with dragonfire, I suppose. Through the smoke, a white horse comes into my view, and rather than staring at it like a confused idiot, I approach the creature, who appears to be completely unscathed. As I mount myself and ride off through the debris, my thoughts turn to Jon again. He may not be the smartest man in the Seven Kingdoms, but if he does not realize by this point that Daenerys must be dealt with, he never will. I can only hope that he is no longer loyal to his precious lover, his beloved Khaleesi that has now slaughtered thousands of innocent people like helpless cattle. That's all I can do. And I hope that by now, he has realized that she must be deposed.

But I know my brother. I know he does not want to kill. He's never liked it. He's always preferred peace over war; he's been that way his whole life. But I am confident that he knows what must happen now. He must kill Daenerys Targaryen and bring an end to the massacre.

And if he cannot bring himself to kill her, then I swear by the old gods and the new, I will do it myself.

**(A/N: So, I know it was short, but I hope you guys liked it. Feel free to let me know what you think - again, this was just for fun. And let me know if you would be interested in reading some actual Game of Thrones stories, because I've actually been thinking about doing one lately. Let me know your thoughts! Happy reading! ~BlackthornUnicorn98)**


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